The Math Tutor
by FlavorCrisps
Summary: *title may change, rating may change* Envy is horrible at math, and he needs help in order to graduate and go to an art school. And who will help him? Why, non other then Edward, our little blond chibi!:  Edvy, EnvyxEd
1. Chapter One

**Hey, look!  
It's a new story =O**

**So, I'm gonna say this now. This might not be updated very quickly, because I can only do so in my spare time, and I'll probably need notes from some classes for the whole tutoring bit. Also, it's probably going to be a little boring until about... *checks outline* Chapter three, about, or even chapter five, when the tutoring actually starts.**

**So here we go :) **

**Extra: It took me so long to figure out who to put in here from each anime! Bradley is not in here. I couldn't choose... and I ended up taking Wrath from FMA and Pride from FMAB. And there are like two OCs, simply because I put them in every single story I write, and this is no different. They will not be main at all.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own FMA. I mean, hello, why would I be sitting here?**

**Warning (story overall): Yaoi. Hello. Duh.  
Warning (chapter): Er, nothing, except ranting. :)**

I frown down at my U.S. History binder as I sit down for first hour and open the binder to copy down the notes from the board. I'm running out of paper. I'll probably forget to refill it later, too. I sigh and start copying down the notes anyway (despite the fact that first hour hasn't even started yet). As I do so, the room slowly starts to fill up.

The reason why I go straight into first hour instead of wandering the halls like a normal person is mainly because I don't know anyone to wander the halls _with_. There are a few people I have considered hanging out with in the morning, but they are mainly acquaintances. Especially this one girl; she's in almost all of my classes and I talk to her quite a lot and we partner up if we need to, but I would never actually hang out with her.

And her friends are kind of weird.

Almost as if summoned by my mental thoughts, she plops into the seat beside me and immediately starts to rummage through her bag, looking for her supplies. She groans after a second and looks over at me. "Envy, can I copy your notes when you're done? I forgot my glasses."

I shrug. "Sure."

"Thanks! You're a lifesaver."

By the time the first bell has rung, I have finished copying down the notes and have handed them to her. When the teacher starts talking, going over the notes, I zone him out. He doesn't care; as long as I do well in his class and copy down the notes he doesn't mind if I pay attention or not.

I take my sketchbook out of my bag as quietly as I can as not to disturb the people copying down the notes and paying attention. I open to a fresh page and start sketching something random. I love to draw and I love art. I want to get into an Art School and become a professional artist. However, that won't happen unless I graduate. And I won't be able to graduate without passing Geometry, which I am taking for the second year in a row. And I'm still failing. My counselor has suggested a tutor, and I grudgingly accepted (after a lecture from my two older and only sisters when I said I didn't want one).

I have a lot of siblings. Three of them are out of high school, but are still living at home and two of them go to the college that is forty-five minutes away. The oldest, Gluttony, is the one that doesn't go to college. Then there is Greed, Sloth, and Lust, who is a Senior. Then there's me, a Junior, and the twins, Wrath and Pride, who are Freshmen. Greed and Sloth are content with going to the local county college, but Lust and I are not. Lust wants to go to Julliard with her flute and I want to go somewhere in New York City. I've been looking at colleges, but I haven't found the correct one yet.

I glance up at the clock, and deadpan. It's frozen again. This room is notorious for it's freezing clocks, behind clocks, and speeding up clocks. I also notice that my notes have been returned to me, and these I clip quietly into my binder. I carefully slip my phone out of my pocket and check the time. 8:37. The bell is going to ring in a few minutes. I regretfully put away my half-finished sketch and my phone. I look up again at the clock to see that it is speeding up to catch up the time. A worksheet lands on my desk that I assume to be homework and I tuck it into my bag.

The bell rings and I get up and head towards the door, going to my locker and grabbing the binders for my next two classes: English and Art History. In English we were simply doing a partner project for the last piece of literature we had read, so I actually didn't really need my binder. However, I brought it anyways, just in case. The period is spent with the girl from History, Ada, rambling on and on about her girlfriend, Ivy (whom I've never met), instead of doing any work. Which is usually how it is. Occasionally I'll put in my opinions on her relationship, what she should do, where she should go, etc., but I mainly tune her out and try to get the work done.

Today, she is trying to figure out where she should take Ivy for her birthday.  
I suggest Friendly's.  
She shoots that idea down.

Ada continues to chatter on through the rest of English and during the passing period. She only falls silent when we reach the Art History room. Don't let the name fool you; it is still an art room. There is still the smell of paint, there is still smudges on the desks from ebony pencil and pastels. It's one of the reasons that I love this class. While learning about a certain art movement and the prominent artists, we do a unit using that movement to create our own art. Right now we are making stained glass windows. I like to add details, causing for a lot of falling behind, so I'm actually still in the drawing and planning phase. The teacher doesn't mind, but this might be because I come in during my half periods and take it home on the weekends (if I can; this unit I won't be able to).

I'm putting the finishing details on my window plan, which is based on the story of Little Red Riding Hood and the history of the Blood Moon, when Mrs. Williams, the teacher, comes over to look at how I'm doing.

She points to the moon. "You might have some trouble filing down the glass for all of the small bits you chose for the moon."

I smile slightly. "I'll find a way."

"I know you will." She smiles back. "You're staying here for your half periods, yes?"

"Of course."

"You might want to snag a spot now, then. Come on, I'll show you how to use the filer."

I engulf myself in the work once she is done explaining, ignoring everyone cleaning up, the bell ringing, and a new class coming in and setting up. Halfway through my work, I decide that I need one of these for my own (not that it will ever happen). Although my mother is quite rich (her recent inheritance adding to that greatly), I still have to save up all of my money for whatever I need for my art or for piano, which I play in my spare time. We have a pretty big house that has enough room for all eight of us to spread out comfortably. The basement has pretty much been taken over as my own personal Studio; however, I don't nearly have enough supplies, which is why I like to go down to the local art gallery on the weekends. I've been going there on the weekends for years, and the lady that works the souvenir counters on those days allows me to use one of their workplaces for free. But only if there is one open and there is no show. I could never have my artwork hung up there, though, unless I'm able to pay them and I don't have the money, and my mother won't supply it. She doesn't really think that I'll be able to make it in the art world.

I suppose if I'm being honest, I don't really blame her. Unless you're really good, you won't get far.

I shake my head and pick up another piece of glass, glancing up at the clock to see that I have half an hour more and I've done half of my pile of glass. I glance back down and resume my filing.

After noticing that four of her seven children were musically inclined, my mother turned the attic into a soundproof music studio. Which is great, really, especially for Lust, but it also kind of sucks because the four of us that play can't play when we want to all the time. If Lust isn't playing, then Pride is, and when I think the room is empty, Greed is usually in there. So I prefer to just stick with my art, then, and leave the music as just a hobby.

I jump when someone taps my shoulder (thankfully I wasn't filing any glass) and turn, almost dropping the bit of glass I was holding. It's Mrs. Williams. "The hour is almost up. You should probably start cleaning up. I'll give you a hall pass if you need one."

I nod. "All right. Thank you."

I sweep all of the filed glass into a bag and place that and my window plan onto my shelf. I grab the mini broom that is under the station and sweep all of the little pieces of glass that will go unused into a pile and then up into the garbage. I grab my stuff just as the bell rings and I wave goodbye to Mrs. Williams as I leave her classroom and head to my locker to switch binders. I sigh as I pick up my Geometry binder (with my Chemistry binder) and shut my locker. I can't stand being in that class. It's mainly filled up with sophomores who actually understand what the hell they're doing whereas I can only stare at the paper or the board and hope to understand what the hell I'm doing.

As soon as I step into the classroom and take a look at the board, I know that this is going to be a torturous class. We've been doing proofs for about a week or so now, and most of the class has gotten the hang of it, except for me. And now, our warm-up is to write a twenty-step proof. I stare blankly at the board as I sit in my seat with a blank piece of paper in front of me, the Given the only thing written on it.

"All right," the teacher exclaims, making me jump. "We already have the Given, now who can tell me what the second step is?" He glances around the class, looking for a victim (also known as a student) to answer his question. I do not move or make eye contact. It usually does the trick.

And victim number one is... "Envy! How about you? What did you get?" I glance up at him. He's smiling, waiting. "Do you have an answer?" he asks patiently. I shake my head and he moves right on, like it's no big deal that I don't have an answer (and that I'm failing his class). He doesn't bother asking me any more questions after that.

I try to follow along and fill in my proof, but I get confused from all of the different postulates and theorems. Eventually, I give up. As soon as we're done with that, he passes out a homework sheet with more ridiculously long proofs on it (that I most likely will not be able to do). The rest of the hour passes by in a blur, as does Chemistry. I honestly don't even know what we talked about, which can't be food. It seems like I blinked, and I was closing my locker and heading to my Studio class.

I feel myself relax as I enter the art room (different then the one my Art History class is in), inhaling the familiar smell. I set down my bag on the floor by my desk and go over to my shelf to get my project. We were doing self-portraits, and amidst the various complaints at first, my class was doing pretty well with it. Some people didn't really look like themselves, but that's to be expected. I know that I'll probably finish today, as I only had the shirt to finish up. As I set to my work, I keep half of my focus on the class, like I usually do. My class is a very odd one, to say the least. I finish up quickly and turn it in, turning my attention to my homework for the rest of class.

The class goes by pretty uneventfully, except for the one kid who kept bursting out into song randomly, and there is the usual rush for the door when the final bell of the day rings. I slowly pack up my homework and then pull a sketchbook out of my bag and approach the teachers desk. "Um, Mrs. Shay, I just wanted to drop off another finished sketchbook." I've had Mrs. Shay as my Studio teacher every year since eighth grade and ever since she looked over what I was drawing in my sketchbook once in eighth grade, I've been letting her look through them when I fill them up.

She beams. "Great! I'll look through it tonight. Are you free tomorrow after school to discuss them?"

"Yup. I'll see you tomorrow."  
To get home from school, I have to walk twenty minutes. It's a pretty easy walk, no hills and relatively straight. Technically, I'm supposed to walk with the twins, and Lust is supposed to walk with us too, but I usually end up staying after school and they all get home before me. We don't use the front door, instead having to go in the door that opens at the mid-level between the basement and the kitchen. Sometimes I go straight down to the basement, but not usually. Today, I go up into the kitchen and head to the staircase that will bring me to my room on the second floor, grabbing a granola bar on the way and skirting around Gluttony (who is probably attempting to prepare a dinner that no one will eat). I go up the stairs, down the hall, and into my room, closing the door before I slide down and lean against it, closing my eyes.

Barely focusing, I can hear everything: a pan falling to the floor in the kitchen, Pride and Wrath yelling at each other while playing a video game, Lust talking on the phone, Sloth watching TV. I can't hear Greed, but that doesn't me that he isn't home. He's probably up in the attic, playing guitar.

I drag myself up the ladder to my bed (my bed is like a bunk bed, but instead of having another bed underneath, there's a desk) and lay flat, groaning when I notice something digging into my back. I pull out a sketchbook from underneath me, and stare at it, knowing I didn't leave it there. I open it and see a yellow post-it note stuck to the inside cover. I scowl as I read it ('These are good, why don't you show anyone these? -Pride'). I hate it when people invade my privacy, and he knows it.

There are sketchbooks that I have that I don't show anyone, mainly because there probably happens to be a drawing of them in there. I draw crushes that I've had, my family when they're not paying attention, things like that. Private things.

I flip through a bit. A crush from seventh grade. Pride and Wrath watching a movie (not arguing for once). Sloth reading a book. Lust playing her flute (that was tricky; I had to sneak into the attic). I close it and sigh. Stupid Pride and his invading ways. I swear he has no sense of privacy. I lay back down and pull my iPod out of my pocket, drowning away the sounds of my family with music, and drifting off to sleep along with it.

**Yeah, that was pretty boring, wasn't it? Ah, well... it'll get interesting eventually. **

**I know! I can write a oneshot to make up for it! I will get right on that! Let's see if I'll finish it before I post the next chapter :P**


	2. Chapter Two

**Hey :)  
I know it's been like a month since I updated, but I have good reasons as to why. STAGE CREW. Yup, it started again. It's over now, but still. This year, our school has been having construction done to it, which meant that the auditorium was basically empty. Therefore, we had to go to another highschool in order to put our play production up. Stage crew had two days to build and paint all the sets and the entire cast, crew, and orchestra only had two weeks to get used to the stage. It went really well though :)  
After that, I had to take a week and a weekend and a half to catch up with all of my homework (especially considering that I got sick right after stage crew ended). Plus I needed to catch up with my art project (which is still not done and is sitting on my dining room table waiting for me). I worked on this in any free time I was able to get, and I've finally finished! *happy dance*  
I want to make a quick note. So READ THIS RIGHT HERE::: Eventually, I will start to put in chapters that are in Edo's point of view, once there's actually more added to his character. Right now he's in the boring-character-that-sits-in-his-room-and-reads-scientific-journals-stage. But soon he will get interesting, and then his chapters will come in. **

** Anyways.**

** Warning (story): Yaoi. Maybe some strong language... hmm...  
Warning (chapter): Er, nothing really, except a worrisome art teacher, Hughes, and a creepy brother. :)  
Disclaimer: *sigh***

I sweep all of the glass that I didn't place into my frame into the plastic bag. I place both the bag and the frame on my shelf and grab a rag to clean off my workspace. As I do so, Mrs. Williams comes over.

"You're not staying for your half periods?" she asks, a frown on her face.

"No, I have a meeting with my counselor today during my lunch period." I pick up my bag and swing it on to my shoulder. "I might be able to come in during my study period, but I'm not sure."  
"All right. I'll see you then, maybe." She nods and leaves to tend to another student.

When the bell rings, I go to my locker and switch binders before heading down to the Guidance Office. When I enter, I immediately get slapped in the face by the air conditioning. _What the hell. _I shiver. _It's freaking fall. Why the hell is the air conditioning on?_

"May I help you?" the secretary asks.

"Uh, yeah. I have an appointment with Mr. Hughes…"

"Ah. He has another student in at the moment, but he shouldn't be too much longer. You can have a seat outside of his office."

"Thanks," I murmur and sit in one of the hard, plastic chairs. I pull out my sketchbook and continue the sketch I had been working on the day before and settle in for the wait. It really bothers me when counselors do this; set up an appointment for you but then not be available at the time. Although, I suppose it's not really their fault if a previous appointment runs late.

After about ten minutes, the door finally opens and a guy with short black hair walks out, a frown on his face. Mr. Hughes follows. "I'm serious Mr. Mustang. If you cannot control your urge to up the flame on your science projects you will be forced to take the class independently with a constant monitor!" The only answer he gets in return is the slamming of the Guidance door. He turns to me and smiles. "Ah, Envy. Sorry to keep you waiting. I see you kept yourself busy," he says, looking at my sketch.

"Uh, yeah…" I close my sketchbook, shove it in my bag, and stand up.

"Well, come on."

I sit down in the chair across from him. He sits and starts rifling through his papers. "I'm sorry that it took so long to find you a tutor, Envy. I had to make sure that they were suitable."

"Um, suitable?"

He looks up for a moment. "Yes, I wanted you to be comfortable with them." I'm not comfortable with anyone." Also, I didn't want you to know them personally, for example, someone in you class. Issues from that class may come up and I didn't want any outside influence during your session." I don't associate with anyone except my family, and even that is minimal.

"Ah." He pulls out a paper. "And they obviously had to be available for an hour everyday after school." He adjusts his glasses. "You will be tutored by Edward Elric. He's a sophomore." I hate smart sophomores. "You will basically be starting from the beginning of this year. You'll still go to your class, of course, and eventually you will be caught up to what you are doing at the time and the tutoring will be simply homework help. Your teacher will also be notified."

"Okay… where are we meeting?" The bell rings and I jump.

"You'll be meeting at the public library, Study Room Three at 3:30 everyday. You will be changed to a bus schedule that will drop you off at the corner the street of the library is on. You'll start tomorrow." He puts the paper on his desk and sits back in his chair. "Any questions?"

"What if something comes up and one of can't make it?"

"I assume that you both have cell phones and can make contact." I don't really use my cell phone…

"Er, okay…"

"Is that all?" He smiles.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Great!" He gets up. Pause. "How's your brother Greed doing?"

"Oh…" I stammer. "He's fine. He's in his second year at college."

"Staying out of trouble?"

"Yeah." I nod. "He's doing, uh, well."

"Good. I'll write you a pass. Where's your study period?"

"Um, actually, can you write me a pass to Mrs. Williams room? I usually stay in there for my half periods…"

"Sure, sure. You only have about twenty minutes, anyway."

"Thanks."

Once I'm out of his office, I relax. That man always has a way of making me feel awkward. It's even worse when he starts talking about his wife and daughter.

I shudder and start walking towards Mrs. Williams's room.

As I think over the meeting, I have to wonder about Mr. Hughes's questions about Greed. I mean they didn't really ever like each other. Greed was landed in his office quite a few times throughout high school to discuss his 'problems'. Most of those were charges or accusations about stealing.

My opinion on that matter: hey, our parent's named us right.

(~*~*~*~)

After school, when everyone rushes for the door, I stay put and wait. After a few moments, Mrs. Shay comes over and sits in the chair across from me. She places my sketchbook on the table and pushes it towards the center. I make no move to grab it and wait for her to speak.

"They were good, as usual. But I have to wonder, Envy." She looks at me hard. "Are you doing all right?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, about a quarter of the sketchbook was filled with drawings that seemed a but dark."

"I… was probably just, you know, in a mood."

She frowns. "According to the dates, you were in a 'mood' for a while." She flips it open. "Are you sure there isn't something you want to tell me? Is everything all right a school and at home?"

I look down at the drawing. It was one that I drew a few weeks ago after an argument with Pride about him going into my room uninvited. Someone (who looked remarkably like me) was standing on the edge of a building, looking down at the people below (who happened to resemble my family). You know, all by chance.

"Everything is fine."

"And you're sure?"

I debate telling her about the loudness in the house and the constant invasion of privacy, and everything else, but decide that it would be too hard to explain, and it wouldn't really support the drawings. "Yes."

She sighs and closes the sketchbook, pushing it back over toward me, but she doesn't take her hand off of it. "You would tell me if there was something, wouldn't you?"

I fake a smile. "Of course." I take the sketchbook from her and stand. "See you tomorrow."

Once I am a few hallways away from her classroom, I stop and slide down the wall to sit on the floor. I stare at the sketchbook. I hadn't realized that the drawings were so dark, or else I wouldn't have brought the sketchbook in for her. I run my fingers over the multiple post-it notes sticking out of the sides. They must have been the ones that she wanted to talk to me about before I walked out on her.

I flip open to one of the marked pages.  
Okay, maybe they're a little dark.

This one I drew after someone (Idon't remember who_)_ got into a fight with Gluttony about how his name doesn't suit him because he can't cook to save his life. After they told him that, he went up into his room and started throwing things around. His room is right across the hall from mine so I heard it all, even his struggles to conceal his sobs.

The drawing is of a knife sticking straight up out of a cutting board, dark cracks spreading out from it. If you look close enough you can see a face on the cutting board, screaming.

Yeah, just a bit dark.

I sigh and lean my head back against the wall. Great. _Just_ great. Now I have a teacher worrying about me as well as a counselor asking about my brother. What the hell.

(~*~*~*~)

I enter the house, planning on dropping my stuff off in my room and then going directly into the basement in order to get my mixed up emotions out by using some paint. Instead, I pause as soon as I step into the kitchen.

Greed was in there.

Now, there technically isn't anything wrong with that. I mean, he was only making a sandwich.

Except that at this time of day, he's usually locked himself in either his room or the attic. And when he does that, he doesn't leave until around six at night. He's not one to deviate from a routine, either.

I close the basement door.

Greed turns. Smiles and shark smile. "Hey. You're home late."

_You're one to notice._ "Stayed after."

"Doing what?" He turns back to his sandwich.

I shrug, inching across the kitchen.

"There's got to be a reason."

"What are you doing out here?"

He turns to look at me again, a not-so-smile on his face. "Nothing, little sister," he says, and goes back to his sandwich.

I scowl. I hate it when he calls me that and he knows it. He says it's because I look like a girl. I think it's because he knows I'm gay.

I should just walk away.

"Mr. Hughes asked about you today."

Why can't I keep my mouth shut?

Greed snorts and picks up a sharp knife. He cuts his sandwich in half in one smooth motion before turning to face me. "What did you tell him?"

I swallow. "I told him that you were doing fine."

Greed nods, drops the knife into the sink, picks up his sandwich, and walks towards the exit, incidentally right where I'm standing. He pauses next to me.

"Good," he whispers into my ear, and then keeps walking.

I shudder.

I wait for his footsteps to die away before running up the stairs and dropping my stuff in my room. I run back downstairs and then into the basement.

My sanctuary.

**So. What did you think? :)  
I don't know if I should write another one-shot to even this out... do I need it? Let me know, people :) However, it might not be an Envy/Ed one. Or even a FMA one. I have some ideas for a Black Cat one-shot. But we'll see...  
Leave some reviews for the review whore!  
And if you didn't see, the one-shot I posted to make up for last chapter was posted a few days later. It is called: Never Been This Close Before. Check it out! 3**


	3. Chapter Three

**Hey!**

**Fair warning right off, this is short. Like, ****really**** short. It's only like 2 ¼ written pages. That's less then half of what I usually write. I apologize profusely, but I really wanted to get an update out early in the week before I leave for Salem, so that I can get a one-shot out later in the week. (FOR ONE-SHOT DETAILS PLEASE READ END AUTHOR'S NOTE!) **

**But yes, my last exam was on June 23. No, it did not take me three days to write this (lol), I've been working on it when I needed a break from studying **** That last exam was Geometry though (the main focus of this :O), and I'm really, really worried about my results. If I failed it then I have to retake it in August if I want to get the Advanced diploma when I graduate… Ahh, you have no idea how scared I am :\  
Anyways, on with the story.**

**Disclaimer: Must I?  
Warning (story): Yaoi…  
Warning (chapter): er….**

**OH! I forgot! You have no idea! I had to put this story down for like three days because I got really angry with this chapter! I wrote half of it, and then went back to reread it, and realized that I wrote it entirely in third person and in past tense. It's supposed to be in first person, present tense ._. That really bothered me… So the beginning might be a little awkward, because I simply changed all the tenses and pronouns…**

**Okay, for realz this time…**

I stare at the door that leads to the study room. Inside, I'm sure that the annoying genius sophomore was waiting for me. I was a little late.

Okay, I was a lot late.

So, maybe I got distracted in the convenience store.  
So, maybe it was because I was stalking the cute cashier.  
So what?

I'm sure that half an hour (or maybe a full one) won't make much of a difference, right?

I knock on the door before I open it. A guy who doesn't remotely look old enough to be a sophomore looks up. "Envy?" he asks. I nod mutely. "I was just about to give up on you."

"Er… I got held up. Look, I know that we only have an hour everyday… so do you want to just… wait? Until tomorrow, I mean."

"Well. Do you have anything going on?"

I smile blandly. "I'm a social reject."

"Then let's go for another hour." He gestures to the chair across the table from him. I sit. "So, I'm Edward Elric. I'll be your tutor for this school year."

He smiles.  
Waits.  
I stare.

"What do you want to start with?"

"Proofs. Proofs and everything after is my trouble."

"Hn." He pulls a blank piece of paper out of a folder that I hadn't noticed before. He places it in front of me. "Write down all of the postulates, properties, and theorems you can remember."

I take a pencil out of my bag slowly, trying to think of something _other_ then the Addition Property. When I'm done, I push the paper back over to him.

"A line contains at least two points… Addition Property… Subtraction… Multiplication… Division… Reflexive… Distributive…" he reads to himself.

He looks up. "So you know the simple ones." He pushes the paper back to me. "Write down the five ways to prove triangles are congruent."

I swallow. "I don't know."

"Yes you do. Just relax and think."

I try to do as he says.  
My mind feels like mud.

"Er… Hypotenuse Leg?"

Edward nods.

"Side Side Side?"

He nods again.

"…I don't know anymore."

"Hm. I think you do know more. Tell you what, we'll stop here for the day. Once you're home, keep thinking of Geometry. Try to remember all that you can, write things down if you need to. Meanwhile, I'm going to try and figure out a way for you to remember everything. Sound good?"

"Yeah."

"Try to be on time tomorrow, all right?" he smiles, waves, and exits.

I blink.

(~*~*~*~)

"You're late," Lust says. She glances at the clock. "Really late."

I stare at her blankly. "And here I thought that I was early."

She smiles. "No need to use sarcasm. So what kept you?" She gasps suddenly and whirls around. "Did you have an after school date?"

I roll my eyes and open the fridge. "Me, have a date? Yeah right."

"Then where were you?"

I pull out a bottle of water, sighing. "I had my first tutoring session today."

She raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. " It took two and a half hours?"

"Well, no, it took me an hour to walk home."

"And the extra half hour in there?"  
"Well… we only took like half an hour, honestly."

"And what did you do for the other hour?" She crosses her arms.

"I was at the convenience store."

"For an _hour_?"

I sniff. "I couldn't decide on what to eat."

"What are you talking about? You never eat."

I stare. "Fine. There was a cute cashier."

"You stalked a cashier for an hour?"

"Is that a surprise?" I murmur, starting to walk out of the kitchen.

"Wait! You haven't told me about your tutor! Was it a guy? Was he cute?"

"Later!"

I sigh.

I trudge upstairs and into my room, wincing at Pride and Wrath's rather loud argument. I toss my bag, the water, and a sketchbook onto my bed before climbing on myself. I stare at my bag for a few moments before disregarding it and the homework inside. Instead, I pick up my sketchbook, flip to a clean page, and start drawing.

Damn, guys… it's even shorter when it's typed up… ._.  
So, yes, I am going to have a mini poll for the one-shots through comments. You have two choices, neither are FMA-related, either.

**FIRST CHOICE: Bleach. In my mind, it is HitsuKarin, but there probably won't be any mentions of names so it can therefore be seen as you want. It is sad. It is angsty. It might make you cry. It contains character death. It is a songfic based on Valentine's Day by Linkin Park. That song is what gave me the idea.**

**SECOND CHOICE: Black Cat. Kyoko\Eve. High school. ONE-SIDED. Probably sad. Not a songfic.**

**There you have it. Please, please, please, let me know. I want to start working on the one-shot as soon as possible so I can have it up on Friday; Saturday at the latest. **

**Sorry for the shortness guys!**


	4. Mreh

Erm. This is just to put up so the alert gets sent through about last chapter. I don't know if there was an alert when I replaced chapters so... just click the back button :) I'll delete this in a few days :)


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